Flightless Bird
by EsmeAnne5981
Summary: Since the beginning of childhood Esme has always been a believer in love and the magic of the world, but will it be enough to keep her from breathing her last breath. The story of Esme Anne Platt's human life before she became Esme Cullen.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**_"Fly"- by Celine Dion_**

Fly, Fly little wing,

Fly beyond imagining.

The softest cloud, the whitest dove,

Upon the wind of Heaven's love,

Past the planets and the stars,

Leave this lonely world of ours,

Escape the sorrow and the pain,

And fly again.

Fly, fly precious one,

Your endless journey has begun,

Take your gentle happiness,

Far too beautiful for this,

Cross over to the other shore,

There is peace forever more,

But hold this memory bittersweet,

Until we meet.

Fly, Fly do not fear,

Don't waste a breath don't shed a tear,

Your heart is pure; your soul is free,

Be on your way, don't wait for me.

Above the universe you'll climb,

On beyond the hands of time,

The moon will rise,

The sun will set,

But I won't forget.

Fly, Fly, little wing,

Fly where only angels sing,

Fly away the time is right,

Go now, find the light.


	2. Innocence

**Chapter 1**

**1903**

"Miss Jones! Miss Jones! Charles killed a butterfly! He didn't even let it fly away! He just killed it!" I cried as I dashed into school!

"Esme Anne Platt, you're late again! I'll have to tell you father when he comes to pick you up this time. I've let you slide all too often," Miss Jones said disapprovingly as I ran up to her desk, Charles right behind me.

"It was going to die anyways, Miss Jones. Esme caught it and she broke its wing." Charles calmly countered!

"No, I didn't!" I yelled as I crossed my arms. He was the one that broke the wing, or at least it was his fault! All I was trying to do was get the butterfly back so he couldn't squish it!

Miss Jones sighed and stood up. "Both of you go back to your seats this instant and practice your calligraphy! You're an hour late and you need to make up for that lost time."

I frowned and trudged across the hard wooden floor over to my big desk in the 3rd year row as he walked over to the 6th year row. I pulled out my slate and chalk and began writing, moving my elbow in big loopy motions that were supposed to make your writing nice and neat, but mine still looked like all of my chickens stepped all over it.

-{*}-

"School is boring. I don't see why we even have to go to school." I complained to my father as I kicked my feet slumping down so that my feet could almost reach the front of the wagon.

"Stop that Esme. You'll fall out." My father instructed me as he pulled me back up into a sitting position next to him. "You're mother feels that you'll do better in life if you can read and write. Personally, you'll just be a housewife though, like your mother. The husband should be the one to work and use his education, not the woman," he said simply.

"But what if I don't get married? I don't like to do laundry anyways." I said, starting to kick my legs again, but I stopped as my father gave me a look.

"Well, if you don't get married I suppose you'll have to be a schoolmarm," he said simply.

"Couldn't I just stay home and feed the chickens?" I asked. I would mind that job too much. "I could even milk the cows and help Momma with the cooking!" I exclaimed jumping up and down on the seat of the wagon! This would be perfect; I wouldn't even have to leave home!

"Esme, sit down!" My father yelled as he pulled me down, resting his hand in my lap so I would stay still.

My father sighed softly as I sat there quietly. I didn't like to get yelled at, especially when I was excited or happy. I watched our two horses walk quietly down the dirt road. Brownie kept trying to eat the leaves off the bushes on the side of the road. I giggled watching him. He was so silly. "No, Brownie! Don't eat those leaves! Bad pony!" I looked up at my father still giggling.

He smiled down at me and rolled his eyes. "That horse is going to get so fat he won't be able to walk."

I giggled even more when I thought about Brownie looking like a big ball just rolling around in the field! The more I giggled the more my father smiled and eventually we were both laughing by the time we got home to Momma.

My father spilled the beans the second we walked in the door. "Esme was late to school, again Clarice."

"Esme, when are going to start becoming time conscious! You need to attend school to learn!" My mother said exasperated. Her hands were covered in flour as she kneaded some bread dough for dinner.

"Charles killed a butterfly. He'll tell you I killed it, but he's wrong. He killed it." I stated matter-of-factly, crossing my arms over my chest. My father watched me, an amused look on his face.

My mother sighed and put the dough in a bread pan. "Whatever am I to do with you, Esme? Why don't you go give the chickens their food? I left the pail on the porch for you."

"Okay!" I cried as I bounced out onto the porch and grabbed the pail, running out to the chicken pen as fast as I could!

I loved the chickens! Except Bill, he was one of our roosters and he was too mean. He pecked at my feet whenever I tried to give food to anybody else! He was too selfish! But all the hens were nice! When I got to the small fenced in pen I stepped up onto the brick to unlock the fence. "Hi, chicky chickens! Boak boak!" I clucked as I jumped into the fence, spilling some of the chicken food. "Oops!" I couldn't pick up all the food, I tried but there was still some left, so I gave up and left the chickens try to eat it from the closed gate. It was kind of funny watching their little heads between the wires.

An hour or two later my mother came out of the house and walked down to the chickens. I looked up from Mr. Fuzzy, our other rooster, who was a lot nicer than Billy, as mother came up to the fence. "Esme, it's time for dinner. Are you telling Mr. Fuzzy about you day at school again?" she asked.

I nodded. "I like talking to Mr. Fuzzy. He's a good listener!" I nodded enthusiastically.

Mother smiled and looked around, and then she saw my mess outside the pen. "Did you spill some?"

I nodded again. "I jumped in and some just came out. I 'on't know why, but it did!" I honestly didn't know why it came out. Oh well, maybe school will teach me.

Mother smiled and rolled her eyes, "Well, why don't you come wash up for dinner. Your father and I have something to tell you."

I jumped up, sending Mr. Fuzzy flying, and wiped the dirt from my rear end. Mother unlocked the gate and reached for my hand as I grabbed the pail and bounced onto the brick and back down onto the ground. She smiled down at me and locked up the gate before walking back up the tiny hill to the house with me in tow, bouncing onto every dirt patch I could find in the grass.


	3. Simple Farmers

**Chapter 2**

A week ago mother told me that Charles was going away. I was sad that Charles was going away, but he could be mean sometimes. He blamed me for killing a butterfly when I was just trying to save it from being squished! He also wouldn't talk to me when the older boys were around. He would tell me to go play with the other littler girls and not to bother him. Mother told me that was normal and that after a few more years he would have let me play with him again, but he left before then.

Luckily, I still had other friends to play with. My best friend's name is Betsy and I have two other friends named Judith and Emma! They're all really fun to play with. They also aren't mean to butterflies, which is a good thing.

"Esme, Are you upstairs? I need your help?" my mother called from the bottom of the staircase. Quickly, I ran out of my room, still holding a copy of the Bible my father gave me a few years back when I started to learn how to read. I still couldn't read very well, but I knew some words!

"Yes, mother?" I asked as I bounced down each step to meet her. She smiled softly and stroked my hair.

"I baked some bread, but I fear I may have baked too much for dinner. Would you like a slice?" She asked holding out a yummy slice of bread topped with a thin layer of butter. My eyes got huge and I giggled reaching for it. We didn't have a lot of money so mother didn't usually ever make too much of something! She must have sold more eggs, milk and butter than usual!

Her smile grew as I ate the piece of bread, following her into the kitchen to help set up the table for dinner. Just as we were placing all of the forks on the left side of the plate and the spoons and knives on the right side father came through the door. He smiled and hung his hat of the coat rack beside the door. "Good evening, Clarice. I see dinner is ready," he said smiling before giving mother a peck on the cheek. She smiled and nodded.

Mother always had dinner ready before father came inside from working around our farm. Father and Mother were farmers. They grew plants and took care of animals. I thought it was a fun job to have. Maybe when I grow up, I'll be a farmer too!

Suddenly, my father grabbed me and held me off to his left side, "So pumpkin, have you ever seen a baby cow before?" He asked me smiling. My eyes grew wider and I shook my head. I hadn't, surely he'd known that!

He just smiled wider. "Well, Susan had her calf early this morning. He's already up and walking. After dinner I'll take you out to see him if you'd like?" He said, his smile growing with my enthusiasm. I quickly nodded as if I couldn't nod fast enough, just in case he changed his mind about taking me.

Mother smiled wider and sat down at the table. "I suppose you'd better eat your dinner, sweetheart, if you want to go see the calf," she said with a pointed look. Father gently set me in my chair and I ate as fast as I could. "Esme," My mother scolded with a smile, "eat slower, you don't want a stomach ache!" I giggled and tried to eat slower, but I was too excited and ate quickly anyways.

Unfortunately I had to wait until my father was done eating to go out. He took longer than I would have hoped but I waited as patiently as I could. I only bounced ten times! Eventually, he stood up and told me to get my shoes on. I quickly ran to the door to grab them and slip them on. "Do you ever _tie_ your shoes, Esme?" my mother asked exasperated. Giggling I looked up at my father and he smiled.

"Don't worry about it," he said then he got real close to me and whispered, "I don't always tie my shoes either." I couldn't help but let another giggle escape as he pulled me to my feet. Silently we walked down to the barn. I could hear Susan moo as usual, but there was a tinier moo with it…the baby cow!

My father put his finger up to his lips motioning for me to be quiet. I nodded and he picked me up, carrying me inside the barn. It was darker in the barn, making it harder to see but after a few seconds I could see a tiny head poke up out of the straw next to Susan. I excitedly pointed, trying not to squeal! My dad laughed softly and walked up to the fence with me. Susan came over to the fence to greet us. I reached over and petted her soft nose when she got close enough.

My father laughed softly as the baby cow clumsily walked over to us. "Look, Esme. He must have seen how pretty you are and came to say hello." My eyes widened as I reached out to the new cow. He watched my hand for a few seconds before hitting it with his head. I giggled and covered my mouth with my hands so I wouldn't be too loud. My father smiled wider. "Good girl, Esme. I think he likes you."

-{*}-

Later on that week, mother took me out into town to help her sell eggs, and milk to the Taylor's and the town doctor like she did every day. The town doctor's name was Dr. Moore. It didn't take very long to deliver Mr. and Mrs. Taylor their dozen eggs and their two bottles of milk. Mrs. Taylor needed a lot of milk for the cake she was going to make for Mr. Taylor's birthday!

When we got to the doctor's house on the corner of two streets I noticed how bland the house was. It was white with a few flowers in the front, but other than that it was quite plain. I would have used my father's red paint and painted it.

When my mother knocked on the door the doctor was quick to answer. He had brown hair and large round glasses that hung off his nose. I quickly smiled my biggest smile and waved. Mother smiled down at me and stoked my hair then exchanged the doctor his eggs and milk for a few dollars. "Pleasure doing business with you Mrs. Platt," he said to my mother before turning to me and smiling. "And a pleasure doing business with you too, Miss Esme Platt, my how you've grown."

I giggled and bounced grabbing mother's hand. "Thank you!" I replied just like mother had taught me too. He smiled wider and waved as we walked back down the road toward home. "He was nice," I said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, he always has been. He's the best doctor we've had in this town since I was a little girl, just about your age," mother said. I looked up at her, smiling, but I couldn't picture her as a little girl. She's too beautiful to have been a little girl. She must have been an angel pretending to be a little girl instead.


	4. Evil Creativity

**Chapter 3**

**1911**

"Esme, get down from that tree! I can see up your skirt!" My mother yelled from the base of the tree I was sitting in.

I looked down at my skirt. I had been careful to sit in such a way that you wouldn't be able to, so my mother was clearly lying to me, but that didn't change the fact that my reading time was through. I sighed and climbed down. My mother wasn't much of an angel to me anymore.

"Esme, it's time for dinner, I expect you to wash up and comb your hair, child," my mother told me exasperated.

Sighing once again I started back towards the house. She only called me child when she was unhappy. She knew I hated it when she called me child, no matter how often she claimed I acted like one I still didn't like to be called one.

She walked into the house ahead of me and watched me walk inside with a look of slight disgust. I paused and looked back at her trying to think of something to say, but came up blank and moved out of the doorway before she could yell at me for letting the bugs in.

I gave my father an exasperated look as I stepped out of my mother's line of vision. She truly was getting on my nerves. He smiled at me and motioned to the stairs. "Hurry up, I want to eat," he said with twinkle in his eye.

I smirked, "Maybe I'll move really slowly instead!"

He smiled and sat down at the table as I dashed upstairs for him hearing my mother call after me, "Esme, no running in the house!" I groaned softly as I stepped into my room grabbing my brush. Thankfully my caramel curls were cooperating with me today and brushed out easily. My hands were harder to clean as I scrubbed at them in the kitchen wash basin.

When I finally sat down at the table the food wasn't as warm as my mother would have liked it to be, but she said nothing as she served us and folded her hands in wait for my father to pray before the meal. I did the same and listened to my father. It was a good thing he was the one praying, I never knew what to say.

When he finished I picked up my fork and stabbed at a baked carrot, placing the soft yet delicious vegetable in my watering mouth. My mother's cooking was always fantastic. I could only hope I would learn to cook like her.

"So, Esme, you're mother tells me she's caught you in the tree reading. May I ask what book it was?" My father asked good-naturedly.

I smiled and pushed some of my carrots around. "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, oh, it is such a wonderful book father! Full of strange oddities and unusual characters! I simply never want to put it down! It pains me to know it's simply lying on my bed, waiting for me to open up to its magic!" I didn't realize my mistake until it was too late.

"Esme, there will be no talk of magic in my house! Howard, you need to stop buying her those sorts of books. They keep her from her Bible studies!" My mother countered.

My father held up his hands. "Sorry Clarice, I will pay more attention to the sorts of books I give my daughter to read."

I sighed softly and ate my baked potato. My mother was very strict when it came to the Bible's teachings and one element she kept especially strict was what I liked to call her "No Creativity Rule." In other words anything to do with magic, witchcraft, and/or sorcery was strictly forbidden. But I couldn't help but see magic in everything. In the birds as they sang through the trees, in the vibrant colors of the flowers that bloomed in the fields, even in the soft breeze of the wind. Magic was everywhere and I couldn't see how it could be so sinful. Magic enhanced everything, made it something beautiful.

Luckily, I knew my father wouldn't stop feeding my creativity, even if he stopped purchasing books periodically I'm sure he would find something even better. He, like me, could find nothing wrong with poor Alice and her adventures. As soon as I finished my dinner I smiled at my mother hoping to ease any tension on her part. She meant well and I knew she did, but her constant nagging was beginning to weigh on me, enough that I needed to escape.

I had to get outside. It was becoming a habit to go outside whenever her desires for my future became too much. Quickly, I ran upstairs and grabbed my sketchbook, after being excused from the table of course, before dashing outside toward my tree. I could hear my mother call after me. She was going to be furious that I'd traded my sewing time to draw "silly pictures," but I didn't care.

This old tree had become a safe haven for me over the past few years. Now that I'm sixteen my mother is desperate to make me a lady, prim and proper like the rest of them, but personally I'd rather just stay Esme. I enjoy helping the younger children in the school and decided that I want to be a teacher, but my mother would never approve. I would have to rely on my father to persuade her to let me pursue my dreams. My only fear is that he will agree with my mother. From what I've gathered of their "private" conversations after I've gone to bed, is that my father thinks I will become a lady when I meet a man worth becoming a lady for. Though I doubt I'll find a man worth becoming a lady for. There are certainly none around here.

Once I'd gotten up into my tree I perched myself onto the thickest over-seeing branch on the tree and started to draw the tiny looking farm down the road. The small farm had two apple trees in the front yard by the road and a wooden fence that had broken planks through it periodically. I felt that the broken fence gave the farm character. I hoped they'd never fix it.

I felt peace as I drew. I always did. I was able to forget everything else for a few moments and just relax as the piece of paper came to life under my pencil. Slowly the farm house in the distance rose from the ground and the tree along with it. The broken fence was slowly beginning to trail the ground and-

"Esme!" Betsy excitedly yelled in my ear causing me to scream out of fright before the world went black as I hit the ground.

* * *

**Authors Note: Sorry, I forgot the disclaimer. Unfortunately I do not own Stephanie Meyer's characters or story line and I also do not own Celine Dion's beautiful song "Fly" or "Vole" depending upon whether you listen to it in French or English. **

**On a separate note I have used some poetic license in the story and will continue to due to lack of information as to what occurred or simply how to get a point across more easily so to clarify, I do not know if Esme and Charles were friends at a young age, but I simply needed to make the point that the Evenson's were and are a family friend (In chapter's one and two).  
**

**Though I promise I will do my best to keep this story as accurate as I can possibly make it according to Stephanie Meyer's few resources, the characters she created, and of course historically. :) I probably should have put this note earlier in the story but I kept forgetting! Thank you for reading!**


	5. Guardian Angel

**Chapter 4**

My eyes slowly fluttered open to meet the paint splatters I'd accidentally inflicted on the ceiling in a burst of excitement years ago. I couldn't help but moan due to the pain in my leg. The pain wasn't sharp or blinding, just…bad. It hurt…a lot.

"Miss Platt?" I heard an angel ask. I looked to my right to see a gorgeous man by my side. He had blonde hair and golden eyes. He reminded me of the sun. I simply couldn't tear my eyes from his perfect pale skin and endearing soft smile.

"Yes?" I asked in reply, my voice shaking audibly. His smile grew and I couldn't help but smile back a bit despite the pain.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly resting his cold hand on top of mine. I flinched at the ice- cold contact, but relaxed instantly. It felt good in contrast to the pain of my leg.

I pressed my lips together for a moment before answering. "Well...my left leg hurts. What happened? I don't remember anything of what happened," I stated truthfully slightly frustrated.

He frowned a bit and rubbed my hand softly, "You fell from a tree and broke your left leg, Miss Platt. Your friend Betsy quickly got your parents once you fell and since Dr. Moore is out of town your father came to the hospital in town and brought me here. Your mother was concerned and didn't want to move you all the way into town. My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen by the way. I apologize for neglecting to introduce myself. I reset your leg while you were asleep," he explained with a sheepish smile.

I smiled wider and nodded slightly, "I probably should have been concerned about having a strange man in my bedroom alone."

He laughed a beautiful, masculine laugh. I could feel my heart falter at the sound. I was dying to hear it again! "Yes, you probably should have, but I'm sure waking up in pain is the first thing that came to your mind," he said, justifying my lack of concern.

I nodded and watched his face, "It wasn't my favorite wake up call." His lips curved a bit more, making his smile seem more angelic. I was only vaguely aware of him watching me back, but I couldn't find it in me to care. His face was…enchanting, but his eyes…his eyes must have belonged to God. There was no other explanation.

"They're so peculiar," I stated in a daze full of wonder. He smiled faltered a bit but returned in a forced manner.

"Yes, they're quite an interesting shade of brown," he replied. Clearly my outburst had made him uncomfortable, but to be honest the blossoming red color of my face gave away how uncomfortable I felt having made the outburst.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly shaking my head, "I don't always think about what I say before I say it. It's a horrid habit of mine."

His smile returned and he shook his head. "Don't worry, they are quite peculiar," he assured me as he began to dig into the black bag beside him. I watched as he moved a few things in the bag in order to put away the excess of the bandage wrap he didn't use and the small pair of scissors he must have used to cut the bandage. Then he turned back to me, "Well, Miss Platt, you will need to stay off your leg for at least a month in order to ensure its proper restoration. Can you do that?"

It was hard to think as his slight English accent flowed around me like the breeze but after a second I was able to formulate a decent response. "To be honest with you Dr. Cullen, probably not, my room is rather…dull," I stated with a sigh as I looked around the dismal room. I had a side table to my right along with my vanity and a wardrobe opposite my bed as my bookshelf sat beside the window to my right. The walls didn't even have color. They were simply wood.

Dr. Cullen nodded a bit as he looked around with me. "I suppose you're right, but you underestimate the power of the bookshelf beside you, Miss Platt," he said softly gesturing to the twenty odd books I kept on the bookshelf. "A book would be able to take you elsewhere in a matter of seconds."

I nodded softly, knowing he was right. But I also knew that I wouldn't be able to get up to get the books that I really wanted to read, instead of whatever my mother selects. "Yes, but my mother will surely grab _Pride and Prejudice_ or _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ for me to read," I softly grumbled regretting moving the book shelf over there in the first place instead of keeping it by my bed. I'd taken a liking to rearranging the furniture in order to give it a new look. Clearly this particular move was not a smart one.

"What's wrong with _Pride and Prejudice_? It is a wonderful love story," Dr. Cullen countered, a slight frown playing on his face as he perfected the bandages wrapped around my leg.

"Yes, it is…but it's dreadfully boring!" I groaned theatrically, bringing my hand to my forehead in fake anguish.

He laughed and the beautiful sound filled the room once again causing me to smile wider. Who'd have thought a single laugh could brighten a room. "Boring?" He questioned as he stood and walked around my bed to the bookshelf leaning down to grab the book, but looked up at me for permission, "Do you mind?"

I shook my head quickly, "No, not at all." How could I possibly mind this angel of a doctor reaching for my lowly copy of Jane Austin's _Pride and Prejudice_? I'm sure Jane Austin would be thrilled.

He gently took the book from the others and held it gingerly in his hands opening the book to what seemed like a random page, but it couldn't have been. His words were simply too beautiful to have been unplanned as he read Mr. Darcy's words.

'"Dearest Jane! Who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarreling with you as often as may be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last? What made you so shy of me when you first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?'" He read with passion enough to pull me into Mr. Darcy's pleas for Elizabeth's heart. I found myself pitying poor Mr. Darcy.

I was awestruck and couldn't help but smile wider. I don't believe I could ever think of the book as I had before. My boredom with the playful love banter was lost and in its place stood beauty and raw emotion in the words after listening to them flow from Dr. Cullen's mouth.

He smiled and carefully handed me the closed book, "You simply have to put it in perspective. You must let yourself become Elizabeth Bennett, and then the book will become more fascinating," he promised.

My eyes widened as I held the book, it seemed cold where his hands had held it. "You make it sound so magical."

He smiled again and looked back at my bookshelf, "That seems to be a reoccurring theme amongst your novels," he stated.

I nodded, "My favorite is _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_, but I'm almost done with _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ which is very good as well. Unfortunately my mother does not approve of such books. She claims magical themes will damage my immortal soul," I said rolling my eyes.

He nodded thoughtfully, his forehead crinkling softly in thought. "What would she prefer you read?"

"If my mother stocked my bookshelf the only books on it would be those written by Jane Austin and the Bible," I replied with a small sigh looking down at the worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_.

"Well Jesus preformed miracles in the Bible, did he not?" Dr. Cullen asked.

I looked up at him a little confused but nodded, not sure where he was going with it.

"That seems quite magical to me," he finished.

I had never thought of Jesus's miracles that way before and I nodded more, my smile growing. "My mother wouldn't be able to argue that point!" I said with a slight laugh.

He smiled wider and gently took my copy of _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ from my bookshelf leafing through the novel. "I've never been one for magic," he said softly almost as if speaking to himself.

I frowned softly, "Everyone needs a little magic in their lives, Dr. Cullen. It keeps things interesting. Without a little bit of magic God wouldn't have been able to create the beautiful world we live in. The singing birds in the trees and the colorful flowers swaying in the breeze would no longer exist!" I exclaimed out of awe, hoping he could see the beauty I saw.

His forehead went back to its thoughtful crinkle as he thought about this. "But not all magic is good, Miss Platt," he replied cautiously as he handed me the book, opened to a page encasing the Wicked Witch of the West.

I nodded a bit and turned a few pages back, "Yes, but the use of the magic still depends on its user. You don't have to use the magic for evil even if it is intended that way you can still try to use it for good," I replied gently tapping a portrait of Glinda the Good Witch.

He nodded softly as he looked at the picture before going back to the other side of my bed to grab his bag. He looked extremely thoughtful, almost sad yet hopeful as he smiled softly at me, "You have a beautiful mind, Miss Platt. I fare thee well," he said softly patting my hand one more time. "I hope we never have to meet again."

I frowned in confusion, taken aback. "That's an absurd thing to say Dr. Cullen," I replied trying to ignore the tingling feeling in my hand.

His smile brightened at my confusion, "It is unless you're a doctor like me."

I couldn't help but smile. I suppose that made sense, but I couldn't help but not want him to leave. Everything he said and touched seemed to find a new, brighter meaning. He even seemed to genuinely care about what I had to say. Certainly he was an angel sent to me in my time of need. I had the sudden urge to grab the Bible and read every passage that even mentioned the word angel, but I knew none of the descriptions would be able to match the majesty of this man before me. "Thank you Dr. Cullen. For fixing my leg," I meekly finished.

He just smiled modestly and shook his head, "You're welcome, but I've simply put it in its place. Leave God to provide the magic," he said softly. "Goodbye, Miss Platt."

His words hit me life a knife in the heart and I nodded, my hands tightening are around the books he'd touched. His farewell sounded so final and I guess it was.

"Goodbye, Dr. Cullen," I replied at almost a whisper. I was afraid he hadn't heard me, but he smiled and nodded, acknowledging my words before he softly shut the door to my bedroom and was gone, never to return.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I have never actually read_ The Wonderful Wizard of Oz _or _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ so if anything is incorrectly referenced too in the book (i.e the characters) please let me know so hopefully I can fix it. (Disclaimer: I don't own any of the books mentioned and/ or quoted in this chapter.)

There are many religious references and points in Esme and Carlisle's first conversation because religion was still a very important part of life in the early 1900's and many people forget that Carlisle's father was an Anglican pastor therefore I feel religion was and is a staple in his life as well.

This chapter was very hard for me to write so I hope you all liked it. This is the chapter I feared the most considering that I needed Esme to become so unforgettable and important to Carlisle that he would be willing to change her later. I hope I did Stephanie's characters justice. Please, tell me what you think. :)


	6. Magic in the Trees

**Chapter 5**

It was absolute torture to have to sit here! It had only been two weeks so far and I was dying to run through the grass, or down the dirt road, or over sharp rocks! I was desperate to get outside! At least my mother would open my bedroom window for me. It was nice to have a breeze blowing into my room.

I smiled as I heard Betsy shoot up the stairs and crash into my room, "Esme! I caught a butterfly for you!" She said her voice full of excitement as she plopped on the bed beside me. Her wild blond hair bounced as she sat beside me to open her clasped hands exposing a small, yet beautiful white butterfly.

"Oh! It's beautiful Betsy!" I exclaimed as I watched it slowly move its wings.

"I told her it was rather colorless for your taste, but she wouldn't listen to me," Judith said with a small smile from my doorway, her soft green eyes and smooth black hair emphasizing her calm and quiet nature, much unlike Betsy's rowdiness.

Betsy stuck her tongue out at Judith, teasingly and laughed. "I told you she would like it anyways! Esme wouldn't judge the butterfly by its color!"

I laughed, "I think it's beautiful. Where did you two find it?" I asked as I gently cupped my hands around Betsy's so she could slip the butterfly into them. She did and smiled as the butterfly examined its new temporary home.

"We found it at Emma's house after setting up for the wedding. The dress looks absolutely wonderful! Please tell me you can make the wedding on Saturday! Please, please Esme! Emma would be so heartbroken if you couldn't!" Betsy pleaded with me.

I smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. My father promised me he would carry me into the service, so Dr. Moore will have no complaints," I stated happily. Betsy, Judith, Emma and I were always the best of friends, but Emma is a year older than us. Therefore she's officially done with school while the rest of us were stuck listening to Miss Jones drone on and on about arithmetic for the five months. Miss Jones had been giving Betsy all of my work so she could take it home to me. I never thought I would live to see the day I begged my mother to let me go to school.

Regardless, our friend Emma Smith was about to become Emma Rodgers. Who would have thought? None of us ever expected Benjamin to be able to convince Emma to leave her dream of going to college to simply become a housewife, but he did. So, now at the age of seventeen Emma was going to start a family with Benjamin who was 20 and worked at the bakery with the Taylor's. All of us were so happy for her and dove into helping her make plans for the wedding. I don't think we'd ever seen her happier.

Judith smiled from the corner, "Emma wants you to sit in the front row. She made special arrangements for a stool to be place in front of your seat so you can prop your leg up."

I shook my head smiling. "She's so kind. Tell her I said thank you. I'm almost done with her wedding present!" I said as I nodded toward the drawing of her favorite flower I was preparing to give Emma after the wedding.

"She'll be so excited when she sees it!" Betsy exclaimed looking at the drawing. "It looks so real. How did you do it, Esme?" She asked.

"Well, when you sit here for two weeks even the little details of flowers can be a relief to see and draw," I explained as I gently opened my hands for the butterfly so he could fly off. The three of us silently watched as the butterfly tested out his wings for a moment before fluttering into the air and out the window into the world.

"Maybe he'll come back and visit," Betsy said quietly still watching out the window.

"Maybe it's really a girl," Judith mumbled softly.

I smiled wider as Betsy shot Judith a playful dirty look. Judith laughed and sat down in the chair beside my bed. The same chair Dr. Cullen had sat in only fifteen days prior. I don't think I will ever be able to forget that blonde haired angel. He was simply too fascinating. Although I hadn't told anyone about the feelings that came over me as I thought about him. I hoped I would be able to find a husband with Dr. Cullen's genuine concern and thoughtful inputs on my seemingly insignificant conversations.

It didn't matter anyways. I heard from one of my mother and father's conversations that he's left Columbus anyways, so I definitely won't ever see him again. It shouldn't bother me as much as it does. I only spoke with him for a half hour, but it was enough for him to make a wonderful impression. I pity every man who has to stand in comparison with Dr. Cullen. Dr. Cullen is truly an ideal man.

"Earth to Esme!" Betsy sang in my ear, snapping me out of my thoughts. "I was about to grab a water pail and dump it on your head. You've been daydreaming a lot more since you broke your leg," she half complained.

Judith frowned in concern, "Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"

I shrugged. "I may have, but don't worry. I promise my brain still works. I've simply been more "distractible" recently probably because I've been cooped up in this dismal room!"

Judith smiled softly. "You'll be out of this bed and back into the world in no time, Esme," She encouraged.

I nodded and smiled for her, although it seemed my escape was looming farther and farther away as each day passed.

-{*}-

"Esme, please keep your eyes on the board. You've only been back for two weeks and still have much catching up to do," Miss Jones scolded her face pulled tight into a scowl.

I couldn't help but smile to myself as I turned my attention back to the large chalkboard. Miss Jones was crankier than ever, Betsy and I speculated that she had romantic feelings toward Mr. Emberly, but being a teacher she couldn't marry without leaving the children without a teacher. I felt bad for her, it was truly the only negative to the profession, but her horrid mood was becoming quite comical.

Suddenly, a small piece of chalk hit my shoulder and I looked over my shoulder at Betsy who sat diagonally behind me. She pointed out the window on the side opposite us where a tiny yellow butterfly fluttered on the apple tree all the young kids liked to play on.

Seeing the small butterfly on the tree made my mind begin to wander to the magical tree that sat in my front yard. For many years I had never thought of how beautiful and unique that tree really was, until I fell from it. My tree's base was strong and a few roots were so large the ground was unable to contain them, forcing them to breathe the cold air above ground. From the base the tree wound into a few knots and small twig like branches with only one or two leaves. Then the tree's stronger branches developed, twisting and straightening they're bark and leaves into strong limbs for a multitude of creatures, birds and squirrels for example. At the top the branches were thinner, un-climbable, trust me, I've tried. But most of all, the tree now contains a broken branch; one I apparently grabbed trying not to fall, living proof that my guardian angel existed and thus the magic that came with him.

I was no longer allowed to climb that tree. My mother had completely forbidden it and therefore my father was unwilling to take my side. He decided to trust my mother's judgment in matters such as how I should be raised, in order to prevent any more injuries I suppose. Mother also decided to take my "lady training" to the next step. She was adding piano lessons on top of sewing, cooking and cleaning. I wonder how I fit going to school with all this nonsense. At least the piano makes such a beautiful sound. I don't mind listening to it, or playing it for that matter. I suppose it's the most bearable of all of my tasks.

"Esme Anne Platt, if you make me call your name one more time young lady I will get out the switch! It's been years since I've had to threaten a student of your age with the switch! Shameful!" Miss Jones scolded as I sighed turning my attention to the board.

"I apologize, Miss Jones," I softly replied, paying attention to the rest of her lesson. Clearly my days of daydreaming are at an end.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I finally decided to name the chapters to give them all a sense of identity. I hope you all don't mind. :)


	7. Purple Lilacs

**Chapter 6**

**1917**

It wasn't the first time I'd seen him, but this time was very different. I anxiously paced back and forth across our small kitchen, adjusted a plate and a few pieces of silverware before continuing my pacing. "Esme, stop your pacing. It isn't lady like. Why don't you sit down?" My mother suggested as she practically forced me to sit down and fixed my hair, which had decided to tumble out of the bun she'd carefully constructed. It truly looked beautiful when it wasn't falling apart.

"What if it falls out while he's here?" I asked worriedly. I wasn't sure how high on the black list my hair was going to be when it came to tonight.

Mother frowned but shook her head, "It has a mind of its own. I'm sure he'll remember. You played so often when you two were children, it would surprise me if he didn't. It's one of the first things that comes to mind when I think of you."

I nodded softly. I still couldn't believe it had all started but a few days ago.

-{*}-

_Betsy had been married for almost a year now and was expecting her first child within only five months, so in preparation we decided to go into town and pick out a few things for the baby._

_ "I'm telling you! It's going to be a girl. I can feel it," Betsy exclaimed as we looked at a few outdoor flower displays on the main road. _

_ I rolled my eyes and laughed, "How could you know, Betsy?"_

_ She smirked and tapped her nose, "Motherly intuition."_

_ I chuckled softly and continued to look at the flowers, letting my fingers trail over some lilacs. _

_ "Charles is staring at you Esme," Betsy quietly informed me with a smirk._

_ "Really?" I asked curiously looking behind me. Sure enough my eyes met the charming brown eyed gaze of Charles Evenson, who quickly averted his gaze to the jewelers' shop beside him. Charles Evenson had returned to Columbus without his parents, they'd decided to stay in Detroit, Michigan where his father worked at the Model T factory. Charles was trying to establish a plant here in Columbus. I wasn't sure how well it was doing but he seemed to be well off so I assumed the plant was doing well. _

_ "Hmm…I wonder why he's looking at jewelry?" Betsy pondered, theatrically placing a finger on her chin. _

_ "Probably, because we caught him looking over. We must have embarrassed him," I logically countered. _

_ Betsy rolled her eyes but her tone suddenly became serious, "Esme, are you ever going to get married?"_

_ I thought about her words for a moment, but my concerns over not getting a teaching position like I hoped to be were interrupted by a pair of golden eyes. I sighed softly, "Maybe. I haven't seen anyone who catches my eye yet."_

_ Betsy nodded softly, "You have high standards, Esme. Due to word on the street I can tell any woman here would kill to have Charles Evenson stare at her."_

_ I nodded softly, feeling guilty that I didn't feel completely flattered by Charles' interest, but I couldn't help it. He was charming and very good looking, but all he was to me was someone I used to know, nothing more. _

-{*}-

Everything changed the night Charles stopped by with a bouquet of beautiful purple lilacs for "Miss Esme Platt." He didn't stay to talk, but it had been enough that my mother had immediately called to me from where I was working in the barn, milking Susan the cow, completely ecstatic as soon as he left.

"Esme! Esme! Esme!" She cried running into the barn, scaring Susan who kicked the milk pail, spilling milk all over me.

"Mother!" I exclaimed jumping up in a soaked dress.

"Oh, that's of no matter now darling!" she practically purred. "You finally have a suitor! Oh, Esme!" She hugged me tightly as I stood in shock over her words. I knew it was Charles, but I had never expected his glances had been anything other than a passing fancy. Apparently, I'd assumed wrong.

I could feel my throat run dry as I thought about a potential future with him. I wasn't ready to get married or even thing about it! The mere thought scared me and excited me all at the same time. My voice shook as I spoke, "What if I don't want to get married mother?" I'd always contemplated becoming a teacher. I enjoyed working with the younger children in the school and frequently helped Miss Jones in the one room school house. Miss Jones even suggested herself that I go to the teachers college here in Columbus and get my certificate, but I hesitated to tell my parents. Ever since my incident with my tree they'd been extremely persistent on making me a proper woman for married life instead of a young girl who climbed trees and ran wild through the fields.

My mother froze at the comment and pulled back to look at me, "Esme, marriage is just a part of life…"

I shook my head and quickly picked up the spilt milk pail, "Not all women marry….some decided to become teachers."

I could feel my mother's eyes narrow as she took in the subtle meaning in my words. "Esme, it isn't proper for a woman not to marry. You know that."

I nodded softly, "I do know, but-"

"Esme there are no buts in a matter such as this!" My mother exclaimed. She meant well. I knew she did. I just didn't know if I could handle becoming a wife so soon, or at least it seemed so soon. All of my friends were already married, Emma, Judith, Betsy…but I didn't feel ready. I wasn't ready.

"What's going on?" My father's head popped into the barn, "I expected you two to be bouncing with joy."

I pursed my lips as my mother explained. "Esme's decided she doesn't want to get married. She'd rather be a teacher of all things! A teacher!"

"I want to go out west. They need teachers out there now that so many people have moved out west over the past 50 years. The railroad system I've heard it very nice too…" I was careful to keep my voice soft; yelling in any situation just makes things worse.

My father frowned deeply, "I don't want you out west, Esme. It's dangerous."

It took everything I had to nod softly, "Father, it's not dangerous out west. If it was so many people wouldn't have moved out there."

My father watched me closely and I felt hope that he might stand against my mother and let me leave Columbus, and my inevitable marriage, but I was wrong. "Esme, I'm sorry. I won't stand to see my daughter running out west just to get herself killed by Indians, bandits, or God knows what else. Charles Evenson has good prospects. He'll treat you well, he had an excellent father. Please, just give him a chance."

I looked down at the hay at my feet as my mother stroked Susan's hide. "Esme, we just want what's best for you," my mother reasoned.

I nodded softly, "I understand." I really did understand. I wasn't opposed to Charles himself. I could find nothing wrong with him. All I could do was hope that if it came to marriage that I would be ready. Oh, please God, prepare me for whatever comes next, I silently prayed before allowing my mother to lead me back into the house where I would write Charles a letter of invitation for dinner.

-{*}-

I was surprised to find myself worrying over every little thing, but my worries were well spent and as my mother fixed my hair for the third time. "Everything looks wonderful, Esme," my father soothed as he smiled at me. I had cooked everything on the table, from the stew to the small cake for dessert. My mother refused to help knowing this way Charles would get a taste of my cooking, in hopes he would like it.

I nodded and smiled at my father, "At least I can say I tried."

My mother rolled her eyes as her small hands perched on my shoulders, "Hush, child. You did wonderful!"

I couldn't help but smile at my mother's approval. It was so rare the sound of it could only be compared to fresh honey. "Thank you, Mother."

"You're very welcome, Esme," she said with a smile as she moved to smooth a wrinkle in my pretty, light blue dress. Suddenly, I jumped and a hot flash of fear dove through my veins as a knock on the door sounded. He was here. I quickly took a deep breath and walked towards the door, my mother a shadow a few steps behind me and my father at her side.

Silently, I looked over at my parents for support as my hand gripped the door knob. My mother's smile was ecstatic as she clasped her hands together. My father was calmer, but it was his soft nod that ultimately gave me strength to open the door. Charles was standing there in a nice, but casual suit, holding a color bouquet of a variety of beautiful flowers as he smiled a heart-stopping smile. "Good Evening, Esme, you look absolutely beautiful."

I could feel my blush blossom over my cheeks and I smiled wider, "Come in, I made dinner, I hope you like it."

He smiled wider, "I'm sure I will."

And with that I opened the door and let him in.

* * *

A/N: I worry about the construction of this chapter, let me know if I should redo it.


	8. Dandelion Pollen

**Chapter 7**

I softly shut the door as he stepped inside, nodding to my father then to my mother, "Mr. and Mrs. Platt, It's so kind of you to allow me to meet your daughter." I smiled standing beside the door. He was so polite, and in that suit he certainly was handsome.

My mother shook her head softly, "The pleasure is ours and you two seem to forget you've known each other before."

Charles smiled and looked at me his polite smile turning to a smirk, "Well, she certainly seems to have changed since her butterfly killing days."

I couldn't help but argue, "I distinctly remember _you_ killing the butterfly."

"Whatever lets you sleep at night…..Butterfly," he smoldered and I rolled my eyes a smile playing on my lips as my mother about choked with satisfaction at my new nickname.

"Dinner's getting cold. We should eat," I commented glancing over at the table.

"Oh, yes! I almost forgot about dinner!" my mother exclaimed as she scurried over to the table, my father smiling to himself as he followed her and sat down. Charles looked down at me seeming to completely take me in for the first time as he took in a sharp breath.

"You truly do look stunning, Esme," he said softly as we walking over to the table.

I smiled softly, "Thank you…"

Charles sat down in the chair between my mother and I at our square table as I served the food. I was able to relax as my mother and father entertained Charles with questions about his job and how his parents were doing. Well, all aside from the jittery feeling I continually got as he glanced at me periodically. I ate slowly to avoid finishing my dinner before anyone else's and was blessed by my quick eating father as he finished at the same time. Charles and my mother were slower due to my mother's questions.

Gently I stroked one of the lilac's soft petals as they rested in the center of the table. They were beautiful flowers, a dark royal purple in their center as the color fades out to their light purple edges, each flower as tiny and beautiful as the ones around it. "I hope you're still fond of the color purple…I remembered from when we were children…" Charles said softly interrupting my thoughts.

I nodded, "Yes, I'm still very fond of purple. I fact I almost wore a purple dress tonight…"

He nodded softly, "Why didn't you? I'm sure it would have looked just as lovely."

I softly pressed my lips together and looked up at my mother as my cheeks reddened. "I was sketching earlier in it…"

His left eyebrow lifted, "I….see…" He said uncertainly.

"When I sketch I like to sit in the tree out front, therefore it got dirty…" I finished as my mother's eyes turned lethal.

The only thing that kept my mother from scolding me right then and there was Charles' soft chuckle. "So, you haven't changed. I've been pleasantly deceived," he said smiling down at me. "I trust your art has improved."

I nodded, "Considerably since you've last seen it."

"You'll have to show me some of your drawings…"'

I nodded softly, "Alright." I wasn't too keen on showing him my drawings, but I couldn't deny him access with my mother and father's wish of my marriage in mind.

His smile broadened and he finished his last bit of cake. "Esme, I'll do the dishes if you would run upstairs and grab your lovely drawings," my mother said with a forced smile. I nodded and softly excused myself from the table going up the stairs, grabbing my sketchbook from under my mattress.

I turned around to rejoin my parents and guest, when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. A few strands of my caramel colored locks were falling from my carefully arranged bun, framing my face. I sighed softly. I hoped I could learn to love him. Charles was an ideal man, of course. His compliments were flattering I couldn't help but see him as no more than a past friend, one to banter and play with, but never to love with a deeper passion. Maybe it would come in time.

I looked down at the small black, leather bound sketchbook in my hands then looked at the door for a moment, before sighing softly and leaving my room and going downstairs. Charles was waiting for me at the base of the stairs, sitting on the bottom step as he used to. I smiled at him as I sat beside him and opened to book, exposing a picture of my tree.

"It looks almost real…just without color," He complimented.

"Thank you," I accepted as I slowly leafed through the drawings. I tried to skip past the ones I didn't like, but Charles made me go back to them, claiming he wanted to see them all. I could hear my parents softly talking in the kitchen, my mother peeking in every once in a while. I was grateful it was a scandalous practice to be alone with a man unless he was your husband. It would have been completely nerve wracking to know there was no one else around.

"Are you alright?" Charles asked noticing the tension I was trying to mask. I could see my mother peek her head around the door out of my peripherals.

I nodded, "Yes, I've just….never shown anyone my art before." My excuse was well fabricated and he smiled.

"I feel honored that you decided to show me then. I especially like this one. Where did you find yellow to use in the eye? It's such a strange color to use for an eye…yet unique." He questioned lightly.

"I used dandelion pollen…I actually met someone with eyes that looked like this, they were so exquisite I had to draw them and they wouldn't be complete without the color," I explained.

He nodded as he looked down at me. I looked up at him meeting his dark brown eyes. They were darker than I remembered them, almost black, but not quite. He smiled softly and brushed a few fallen hairs behind my ear, "Your hair still has a mind of its own."

I smiled a bit and nodded. "Yes, it does. I don't think it will ever stay where I want it too..."

"That's because you put it up. Your hair is full of big curls if I remember it right. It's quite beautiful; many women would die to have those curls," he said softly.

I nodded a bit, "I wish it was straight."

"Don't."

I looked up at him; his expression was serious, almost intense. I wanted to look away, but he gently took my hand and it felt wrong to leave him, even if it was just my eyes. His hand was rough, but warm as it held my small one inside it. "Thank you, for dinner."

I nodded, "You're welcome. Thank you for coming."

He smiled and nodded, "I wouldn't have missed it. I look forward to seeing you again soon…Butterfly."

I smiled and nodded, "Alright." And with that he gently placed a kiss on the back of my hand and left after bidding my parents farewell. I watched him go from the window, his car was fascinating and I about jumped out of my skin when he honked the horn before waving goodbye, I instantly blushed at the fact that he'd seen me, but was instantly comforted by my mother's praise over how well the night went. She didn't once mention my drawing in my tree.

My father was practically beaming behind her. "Maybe I'll get a good life for my daughter after all," he said softly before hugging me.

I hugged him back tightly and nodded. "Maybe…"


	9. Out of Convenience

Chapter 8

It wasn't long before Charles invited my parents and I to eat at his house. The two story Victorian house had a very warm feeling to it and an open concept ground floor. It was bare but very beautiful. Charles treated me with an overwhelming amount of charm that should be illegal. My mother was ecstatic and still was over the fact that our relationship was going so well.

"I'm just glad you've found a man who will be able to take care of you," My father commented after a third invitation to Charles' house. Father knew finance was not going to be a problem if I married a man of Charles' status. He knew I could care less as to where finances lied which worried him. He didn't want me marrying into a poor home, which I understood, but I would rather marry for love than money.

Unfortunately, that was too much to ask as I practiced my stitching on the couch beside my father as my mother sat in the chair opposite us in our small living room, mending one of my father's shirts. "I've been thinking…" I began glancing up at my father, who nodded a bit, still immersed in his book. "Maybe I'll teach…anyways. Charles is a wonderful man, but I'm not sure he's right for me."

My mother quickly stood up almost pricking herself with her needle, "You will do no such thing, Esme!"

"But mother, I don't lo-"

"No, no, no,no! I will not have my daughter run out into an uncertain future! Howard, help me put sense into your daughters head!"

My father frowned, having wanted to stay out of the argument. "Esme,"

"Father, please! I don't love him…I wish I did but I don't!" I said.

My father frowned, he'd always said marrying the woman he loved had been the best decision to his life, but I knew he agreed with my mother and would rather know I was secure once I was out from under his roof. "Esme, I don't want to have to worry about you…"

"I know…." My voice was soft as I looked back at my stitching. I was losing this battle by the minute and I knew it.

"I'm sorry, darling," my father comforted as he placed a hand on my shoulder, "I won't force you to marry, Charles, but I would prefer it if you could find it in you to learn to love him. It would give me peace in my coming old age."

I nodded softly. I knew I couldn't bring it upon my heart to say no to his pleas, but I wished I could. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. My father groaned softly as he got up, I hadn't realized how old he'd gotten, or at least how much the farm work has affected his body, crippling him. I frowned and stood up, "Father do you want me to get the door for you?"

"Nonsense, Esme! I'm not that old!" My father protested as he slowly travelled to the door and opened it. "Charles, what a wonderful surprise!"

I looked over at my mother and then to the door where Charles was concealed, but my father was standing in my line of view.

"Mr. Platt, is Esme home? I would like to speak with her…" Charles asked.

My father hesitated looking back at me, then he nodded, "Yes, she's home. I'll send her out. Esme? Charles would like to speak with you."

I nodded and set aside my stitching to get up and approach the door. Charles smiled at me as I stepped up beside my father. "Esme, would you mind stepping outside with me…alone?"

I looked up at my father for permission; I knew enough of Charles to trust him not to harm me or try to do anything unorthodox out of my parent's sight. Father looked down at me with a worried expression but nodded and stepped aside. I took one last look at him before slipping outside and shutting the door behind me.

Charles smiled at me and looked around, "It's a beautiful day today, don't you think?"

I nodded, "Yes, it's very bright out and the sky is clear." I commented as I looked up at the clear, blue sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes…." He sounded nervous, upset or something of the nature and I frowned.

"Is everything alright, Charles?" I asked looking up at him.

He nodded, "Yes, of course, Esme. I just have a lot on my mind."

I nodded softly and looked back at the sky, wondering what could be bothering him although it wasn't my business.

We stood there for a few moments, just watching the sky. A few birds flew by, chirping their happy melody as Charles stood closer. I looked over, surprised by the close vicinity between us; usually he was very formal and stayed at least an arm's length away. "Esme, there's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice soft as he gently took my hands in his, turning me slightly to face him. I could feel my breath catch in the back of my throat as nerves kicked in uncertain as to what was about to happen.

"I spoke with your father a few weeks ago and he gave me his blessing, but I want yours." Then he got down on one knee and released my hands to pull out a small box from his pocket and open it, exposing a beautiful golden ring with a large, sparkling diamond placed on it. My hands immediately flashed to my face covering my mouth as my eyes widened. "Esme Anne Platt, I've known you since we were small children playing in our lowly schoolyard. You're company has always been a blessing to me and I was devastated when my parents moved to Michigan away from you. When I was finally able to come back, I did in hopes that you would still be here and with God's blessing you were. Esme, I love you. Will you do me the honor of being my bride?"

I stood there stunned as Charles finished his proposal and awaited my answer. How was I to respond?! My heart screamed at me to say no, I didn't love him….but he loved me. He would give me a good life. He has done nothing to make me think otherwise. But I didn't love him. I was about to open my mouth and give him the answer my heart desired, before I remembered my father. My father wanted me to do this; both of my parents wanted this life for me, a life without fear and worry, where I can live comfortably under a safe roof, close to home. I would be able to take care of them in their old age if I married Charles. Charles and I would be able to help them financially when my father became too old to work the farm. Marrying Charles was the right thing to do, if not for me, for my parents. Maybe the love I desired would come in time.

Slowly I nodded a smile breaking across my face, "Yes. Yes, Charles, I would be honored to become your wife." And with that he gently slid the ring onto my finger. I was engaged.


	10. Bringing Everyone Together

**Chapter 9**

I was a nervous wreck as I paced my dressing room, the ring on my finger seemed to burn a hole straight through it. Today was the day. Three months ago Charles Evenson proposed to me and I accepted. Today I was to no longer be Esme Platt, but instead I was to become Mrs. Charles Evenson. "Esme Evenson," I breathed into the silence of the room, the name seemed to roll off my tongue. I felt like fainting as I thought about my walk up the isle to my fate. Could I do this? Surely a bride wasn't to feel sick with anxiety on her wedding day!

It was then Betsy came crashing into the room, "Oh, Esme! I knew it! I knew it!" She cried as she flung her arms around my neck hugging me. I tightly hugged her back.

"Betsy, you made it!" I wasn't sure she was going to, she lived so far away.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world Esme! Judith and Emma are coming as well! I'm so happy for you!" Betsy continued.

"Alright, it's time to get her ready Betsy. Would you like to do her hair? You've always been able to work with that mess," Mother asked her.

"Of course!" Betsy said as she sat me down in a chair to begin as my mother grabbed my powder and rouge and began her work on my face. I sat as still as I could manage as they worked.

"Betsy, stop humming, if you would," my mother scolded.

"I would, Mrs. Platt, if I could, but I'm too excited to stop!" She reasoned and continued her happy tune. I was grateful for her humming; it soothed me, helping me forget my terror as I sat there.

When they finished I stood and let my mother tighten my corset to the point where breathing was difficult. It was bearable and expected, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Then came the dress. I had to shut my eyes as my mother helped me into the dress along with Betsy running around with pins, pinning it where I had lost weight due to the stress this wedding had put on me. "I wish I lost weight when I got stressed. All I ever do is gain it!" Betsy complained as she gently pinned the left side of my dress, by my hip in a bit, trying to make it look like it was meant to be that way. In the end the beautiful, white, long-sleeved gown was more beautiful than how it was originally. It was of a very conservative design, but in all honesty I preferred it that way.

"You look beautiful, child," my mother said softly as she stood in front of me in her gorgeous, dark blue gown. I couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you, mother."

It wasn't long before Betsy was holding back tears and the three of us embraced. "I'm so happy for you Esme!" She said between sobs, "You finally get to see how John makes me feel…and Benjamin to Emma….and James to Judith."

I held her tighter, refraining from telling her my true feelings over the arrangement. My love for Charles will come eventually. I knew it would. It had to.

My father was silent as we stood arm in arm behind the closed doors to the isle awaiting our musical cue. I clutched the arm of his suit afraid of falling, feeling nausea come over me as we waited. In the end I was the one to break the silence. "I love you, father."

I could hear him sniffle once and I looked up to see a few tears fall from his eyes. I reached up and gently wiped them away for him as he tried to smile down at me. "I love you too, Esme. Remember that."

I nodded, close to tears myself. "Of course, how could I forget?"

He smiled softly and took a deep breath, "Are you ready for this?"

I nodded again, "As ready as I'll ever be," I replied with a smile before gently kissing his cheek.

He smiled back, but opened the doors before we could say anything else, hearing our cue. I could feel my knees go a little weak as I stepped out and saw Charles there. He stood tall and proud as he awaited my presence with a smile fit for a king.

When my father placed my hands into Charles' I could feel my heart catch in my chest as I looked into his dark brown eyes. They were practically glowing as the preacher spoke, slowly wedding us as each second ticked by, but it wasn't until after we had said our vows that the finality of it all came through and I was asked to say "I do." In that brief moment I realized how important this moment was. There was no turning back after those two words were said. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as my head began to spin before I finally managed to choke out the words, "I do." Charles smiled down at me having already vowed his love to me and slowly leaned in as the preacher concluded with the phrase, "You may now kiss the bride."

My heart stopped as our lips connected, as I shared my first kiss with my husband. The first kiss I had ever given and received from a non-related male. It was riveting, yet sensual, his soft, warm lips against mine. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief into his lips as we parted slightly, the kiss lingering on our lips. It couldn't have been more well-rehearsed.

The reception was much less nerve-wracking. All I had to do was stand beside Charles, arm-in-arm, socialize, and eat a bit, although I couldn't eat much due to the tight corset.

"Oh, Esme, you looked so beautiful walking down the aisle," Judith complimented.

"Although you could have smiled a little more," Emma commented afterward.

"Oh, hush Emma, she was nervous!" Betsy defended.

Charles laughed at all their little entities. It was quite relaxing having the three other girls around as I met my new in-laws for the first time since my childhood.

"Oh, Charles, You've really outdone yourself finding such a beauty," his mother cooed, kissing him on the cheek in her long-sleeved pink dress.

His father said nothing although he smiled at me and nodded in acknowledgement.

I frowned a bit and looked up at Charles once they'd moved on to speak with my parents, "Does your father not approve?" I asked softly.

He shrugged. "He's worried marriage will take my mind off of my work, but I've assured him I will be just as dedicated. Of anything I need to be more dedicated now that I have a wife and potential children to care for," he said with a smile.

I nodded and smiled on the outside, but my stomach twisted at the thought of children. Children were something I used to think of with excitement when I was young and played with dolls, but over the past few years the idea of children is nerve-wracking. What if I did something wrong and harmed the child? What if I was incapable of having children? What if I was a bad mother? I didn't have siblings, I don't know the first thing about motherhood, but I knew it was expected. You get married then have children and hope all goes well.

Charles smiled at a young woman with red hair that bounced and curled in a manner similar to mine approached. "Esme!" She called with a smile as she hugged me. I was taken aback, but hugged her back.

"Hi…" I replied uncertainly.

"Hey," she said pulling back, "I'm your cousin, from Milwaukee…in Wisconsin. I'm sorry I haven't been down to meet you sooner. My father is your dad's brother…"

My eyes widened. When I was younger my father had mentioned a brother of his, but they didn't get along so we never visited them and in return they never came down to Ohio. My father told me I had a cousin about my age, but obviously due to their dispute we'd never met. "Uncle Larry's daughter?"

She nodded and smiled, "Yeah, I'm Elsie, Elsie Elizabeth Platt."

I couldn't help but smile and hug her again, "Wow…I've always wanted to actually meet you. What a surprise!"

She smiled as we parted, "I wanted to meet you sometime and I figured you wedding would be a good occasion."

I nodded still smiling, "the best occasion."

Elsie looked around seeing a few other people itching to speak to Charles and I and she shrugged, "But it's a little busy. I should probably let you talk to a few others. Here's my address, you should write me so we can finally visit each other," she said as she slipped a piece of paper in my hand before disappearing as quickly as she'd come.

"Well, that was strange." Charles commented dryly before some friends of his from work came over, but I didn't think it was. Weddings were meant to bring people together, why not bring more than two together…why not a family? I smiled as I looked down at the address. Of course I would write. Why wouldn't I?


	11. The First of Many

**Chapter 10**

My hands shook as I put my clothes in the wardrobe in Charles and I's bedroom. Charles was downstairs. I wasn't completely sure of what he was doing, but I was glad to have a few moments alone to come to terms with things. I took in a deep shuddering breath as I shut the French doors of the wooden wardrobe then looked around the room.

There was only one window, but it was of decent size and let in a fair amount of light. The bed sheets were white and the frame was a light colored wood that matched the wardrobes, the side table, and the wood around the large floor length mirror opposite the bed. Slowly, I walked over to the mirror and gazed at my reflection. I was finally out of my wedding dress and into a light green dress that fit my form well with a loose corset.

Frowning with disapproval I looked at my face in the mirror. Flaws were abundant, my nose was too pointed, the blemish on my cheek, the space between my eyes. I was uncertain as to why, of all women, why he would choose me. I was grateful, of course. My parents would be in good hands due to this arrangement and he was a pleasant man. I just couldn't help but question his eyesight.

It was then I remembered my mother's words, "Esme, God made you the way he did for a reason. Everything happens to his will, you'll see," she always said when I would question myself for various reasons. I sighed softly to myself. I suppose I would have to trust her.

"Esme, can you come down here for a minute. I need to show you something," Charles called from the base of the stairs. I didn't hesitate and went downstairs, curious to see what he wanted to show me. Hopefully it was something good and not something I would regret coming down to see. I wasn't sure how much playfulness was still left in him, but it wasn't uncommon for him to show me things like dead mice when we were children.

He smiled as I reached the bottom of the stairs and quickly covered my eyes with his hands, stepping behind me. "Do you trust me?"

I couldn't help but laugh, "Do I have a choice?"

"No," I could hear the smile in his voice as he slowly began to lead me through the house, keeping me up when I stumbled. It took only a minute or two to get to our destination and he stopped me, whispering in my ear, "I knew I'm taking you away from that tree you love…I hope this is any consultation."

Then he lifted his hands from my eyes, revealing a beautiful mahogany rocking chair. I gasped and couldn't help but trace the intricate design in the arm of the chair. "Oh, Charles…It's beautiful. Thank you," I replied, turning to face him, smiling. He smiled back.

"So, I take it you like it?" He asked.

I nodded as my smile grew, "I love it."

He smiled wider and took a step forward, erasing the distance between us as his arm snaked around my waist while his other hand captured my chin as his lips met mine. I tensed, not used to the close proximity, but quickly relaxed as he held me closer. He was so warm. It was an instant comfort to be pressed against him; our lips dancing in ways mine never have before. It wasn't until his hand ventured a little lower down my back that I pulled away. His arms were still wrapped around me, limiting my motion away as he stroked my cheek. "We should consummate our marriage, Esme."

I could feel my heart rate pick up as I panicked, "We can always wait awhile…" I replied, cursing my shaking voice.

Charles frowned as he looked down at me, "Are you afraid of me? Do you not want me?"

I quickly shook my head, "No, I do want you. I just…I wouldn't know what to do…I've never…" my voice continually broke with my fear, not from him, but from the action as my eyes danced around his face, never meeting his eyes.

His frown deepened and he gently took my chin in his hands, forcing me to look at him. "Esme, you don't have to be afraid when you're with me. I'll keep you safe. You don't have to know what to do, neither do I, but we'll figure it out together. Alright?" He asked his voice soft and endearing as his eyes melted me with their softness and concern.

I nodded softly. "Ok," was my meek reply.

He smiled gently and pressed his lips to mine once more, whispering against them, "I love you, Esme."

I could feel something stirring at the base of my stomach, something I'd never felt before as I looked into his eyes, my heart crying to understand the feelings that overcame me. They seemed to swirl around my head without any direct pattern or reasoning. There was no other phrase to describe the abundance of emotions as they poured from within me and I couldn't help but reply back with the only phrase that made sense, "I love you too, Charles."

With that he smiled and led me upstairs to our bedroom, where I spent my first night with him. The first of many.


	12. Never Again

**Chapter 11**

We didn't get much of a honeymoon. All the time we received was that first night we were married. Charles went back to work that morning. It was lonely in the house by myself. I enjoyed the peace and quiet the house brought, but I was used to having someone home with me. I would have gone into town, but I was unsure whether I should or not. The freedom of living in my own house still hasn't settled well in my stomach, especially after that first night.

I was a woman as of that first night. I was no longer a child, though it was a little unsettling to think about. I worried I might be pregnant. Charles had tried to assure me that it would probably take effort to become parents and that I shouldn't worry, I couldn't help but worry regardless. I wasn't ready to be a mother. That was certain. I didn't have any younger siblings so I had never changed a diaper, fed a baby, or even held one before. How was I to know what to do?

I sighed softly as I washed the dishes left over from breakfast. Charles was upstairs getting ready for work. We had been married for almost two weeks and all was going well. I had no complaints. He treated me like a queen. Although I wasn't a fan of the way he left his clothes on the floor instead of putting them in the laundry basket, but if that's all he does I figure I'll survive.

Smiling, I turned a bit hearing his boots clunking down the stairs. "Will you be home at the normal time tonight or should I wait before making dinner?" I asked as he came over and kissed my cheek. A few nights ago Charles went out with his friends after work and I knew he was itching to do it again soon.

"I should be on time, but thank you for asking," he replied before gently grabbing my face and pursuing my lips. I relaxed into his kiss and my eyes shut not wanting him to go. I longed for another evening like the last, one where we sat out on the porch and watched the sun go down, silently. It was my favorite married evening.

Eventually he pulled away and smiled down at me. "I'll be back."

I nodded. "If you want dinner you will."

He smiled wider and nodded before leaving. I left the dishes for a moment to watch him leave in his Model-T. The engine popped and sputtered before kicking into gear and he rolled onto the road. The Model-T made me nervous. I had only ridden in it once, in order to get from the church to my new home and that was good enough for me. I had no desire to ride in the bumpy, loud, nerve-wracking machine ever again! It was just an accident waiting to happen.

Oh, well. So far I'd been able to avoid any contact with the death trap which was nice. Charles didn't seem to have a desire to have me anywhere other than the house either, so he'd had no need to transport me anywhere. Although sometimes I wished he would take me out into the world, instead of leaving me to the company of the flowers he'd bought me and the widow next door whom he referenced as "Old Woman How."

"Old Woman How's" real name was Cynthia How, but she was known for being a cranky woman with the age of a dinosaur. Many of the young children avoided her house at all costs due to her nasty temper, but she had been nothing but kind to me since I'd arrived…..except for her first few sentences.

"I see Charles has found himself a mistress!" She remarked as she leaned against the fence separating our backyards. I quickly stood up from where I kneeled beside the flower bed.

I stared at her for a few seconds, biting my lower lip, my hands behind my back. "Um…actually I'm his wife," I replied meekly, overly aware of the dirt that dressed the front of my dress and the messiness of my hair as it snuck out of the bun I'd put it in.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said with the shake of her head.

I frowned, suddenly worried. "Why?"

She smirked seeing my fear, "Because he's got a brain the size of a squirrel. The other day he forgot to crank up the engine of the stupid Model-T of his and sat there for 10 minutes unable to figure out what was wrong with it."

I couldn't help but smile and shrug, "I'm sure I'll live. It makes for good comic relief."

She smiled wider and nodded before gesturing to the flowers I was planting, "You like roses?"

I nodded. "They smell nice. I planted some out front so the stench from that piece of junk wouldn't leak into the house," I said as I gestured to where he parked the Model-T.

She chuckled, "I'm glad someone else feels that way about those dumb things. You won't catch me dead in one of those! I wrote strict instructions in my will to transport my dead body in a little red wagon if all else failed."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't think I would go that far, but no, I'm not very keen on them."

She nodded smiling, "You'll have to come in to tea sometime, dear. I'll leave you to your planting."

I nodded and smiled, "I would be delighted, Mrs. How."

"Good, then tomorrow at 10 sharp. Don't be late. I don't like cold tea," and with that she went back inside and shut the door.

I had never enjoyed having tea with anyone else so much. Mrs. How was very easy to get along with, though it had surprised Charles that of all women to become friends with, I chose the old woman. It didn't surprise me though. It felt natural. It was almost like being with Betsy again, except a little older and crankier.

It never took me long to clean the house in Charles' absences. I'm sure if we had children it would be different, but as of now we don't make much of a mess. Out of habit alone I wiped off the windows and fixed the curtains after sweeping the wooden floors of the house and dusting the pictures and shelves. I even entertained myself with laundry, but that didn't take long either.

Eventually, I was able to start dinner. He was to be home within the hour which would be just enough time to make one of his favorites, Beef stew with biscuits and mashed potatoes. As the stew was beginning to cook I work silently peeling potatoes. The biscuits were in the oven and started to waft their smell through the house. The smell was always my favorite part about cooking, that and the methodical feel of it. It required very little concentration once you got the hang of it.

I got dinner on the table just in time and smiled as I set up the plates and silverware, taking my time to make things look nice for him when he came home before sitting down at my place across from his at the table to wait for his return.

I waited for a long time before getting up to look at the time. It had been almost an hour since I'd set the table! Where was he? He was probably out with his friends. Of course. I sighed softly, but couldn't be angry with him. He needed time to be with other men. I had Mrs. How, of course he could spend time with his friends. He also hadn't promised he'd be back on time. Although I wish he would just tell me if he was to be late. I wouldn't be angry and I wouldn't have to reheat dinner in wait for him.

Sighing, I got up and did so, putting the stew back on the stove and more logs into it. I watched the clock as I reheated dinner for him and set it back on the table, but instead of sitting at the table I sat in the intricate rocking chair he'd given me so I could watch the clock.

I was only able to watch the clock for about 20 minutes before I picked up a book, grabbing my old, but beloved copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. I quickly lost myself in the love story, enchanted by the tension between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. It was an hour later when I looked up and sighed. I gently rocked the rocking chair and continued to read.

I was so wrapped up in the story that I didn't even hear the Model-T pull up to the house and Charles enter until he'd suddenly grabbed the back of the rocking chair pulling it back to almost a 90 degree angle as he silenced my scream with a sloppy, bitter-tasting kiss. He'd been drinking. I knew some of his friends did so, but I didn't think he was one of them. I quickly pushed him off, catching myself as the rocking chair crashed back to its initial position. "You're drunk!" I exclaimed as I wiped my mouth, trying to erase the spit and taste from my memory.

He didn't pay attention as he stumbled over to dinner and took a spoonful of the stew I'd made as I stood up, setting the book down. "It's cold!" He yelled as he turned to scowl at me.

I rolled my eyes trying to stay calm through my fear of having a drunken man in my living room. "It wouldn't be cold if you'd come home on time instea-" I was suddenly cut off by my husband as he charged over, grabbing me. His hands tightly wrapped around my upper arms limiting my movement, not that I dared to move anyways.

"Keep your mouth shut woman!" He said before letting go of one of my arms and winding his hand back a split second before drawing it across my face, slapping me. My eyes widened and out of instinct I quickly pushed him away with my free hand.

"Charles!" I cried as he shoved me down against the wall.

"I told you to shut your mouth woman!" he yelled louder as he grabbed his glass and threw it at me! I couldn't help but curl in on myself and shriek as the glass smashed against my hands as they shot up to protect my face.

Charles snarled under his breath and grabbed his plate, full of food and throwing it hard against me. I flinched, but made no noise this time as the glass cut my arms and legs. "Next time I expect you to keep dinner presentable!" He instructed before he stormed up the stairs to our bedroom.

I sat there for a long time, curled up into a ball, afraid to come out. I could hear him snoring above me and slowly I forced my hands away from my face and started to clean up the food and glass. He didn't mean it. He was drunk. He would be appalled when he saw the array of cuts on my arms, legs and hands along with the bruise I could feel forming on my cheek along with a blossoming head ache. It wouldn't happen again. He wasn't that man. He wouldn't do it again, of that I was certain.


End file.
